


the story is somewhat gay, yes

by fizzyblogic (phizzle)



Category: Scott Pilgrim - Fandom
Genre: M/M, WIP Amnesty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-11
Updated: 2010-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 16:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/fizzyblogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wallace and Scott, early on. WIP Amnesty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the story is somewhat gay, yes

Wallace learns early on that there are some things Scott Pilgrim doesn't remember.

They've known each other for a month when they stumble out of a college bar, arms around each other. The air seems not as cold as usual, and Wallace holds Scott up as they attempt to walk in a straight line.

"Wow," Scott slurs, "does the moon always spin that fast?"

"I don't know," Wallace says, less measured than he meant to, "does your head always spin that fast?"

"Not usually," Scott replies. His eyes are unfocused.

Wallace crashes at Scott's parents' house. They try to be as quiet as possible getting up the stairs, but aren't entirely successful. They do, however, make it to Scott's room, and then Wallace drops Scott onto his bed and throws himself down next to him.

"Hey," Scott whispers loudly, smile lopsided. He flops over so he's half on top of Wallace.

"Hey." Wallace reaches to pat his shoulder, missing by inches. "How you doing, buddy?"

In answer, Scott plants his mouth onto Wallace's chin.

"What — what was —" Scott lands on Wallace's mouth on his third try. " _Finally_ ," Wallace sighs, kissing him sloppily and with a lot of enthusiasm. Scott shifts a little until they're better aligned and uses a rather wet amount of tongue. He tastes of vodka and lemons.

Wallace sleeps on Scott's bedroom floor, and the next morning the first thing Scott says is, "How did you get _there_?"

"You uh. You brought me home? We got really drunk last night. Really, _really_ drunk last night."

"Oh. Is that why I don't remember anything after ... something about Ben and a forfeit?"

Wallace stares at him. "You lost _eight hours_ of one night? On five vodkas?"

"Wow, I had five vodkas? That's more than I normally drink. Maybe I should ... not drink now."

"Yeah. Maybe." Wallace digs his fingertips into his temples. "Do your parents have coffee?"

"I don't think a diuretic is really what you need right now," Stacey says, when she finds him in the kitchen five minutes later struggling with a coffee-maker. "You're already dehydrated from coming in drunk at three in the morning waking us all up." She shoots a glare at him and hands him a glass of water. "Painkillers are in the bathroom. Drink this."

"Thanks." Wallace does not feel up to quipping. Or doing anything but curling in a ball. He never has bad hangovers, but he'd had a _lot_ to drink last night. "By the way, does Scott have any memory problems?"

"Yeah, major ones. Why?"

"Nothing." Wallace gulps the water as Scott emerges into the room, doing a very good impression of a zombie.

*

Scott doesn't drink, after that. Which means that he has a drink every now and then and is even more of a lightweight than ever. Wallace never mentions what happened, Scott acts like he doesn't remember (which means that he doesn't), and things continue as normal.

Wallace meets Scott's girlfriend, when he gets one, and she's ... horrible. As Scott's best friend, Wallace makes the obligatory protestations, then quietly supports whatever he does. Meanwhile, a really hot guy named Thomas transfers from Alberta and Wallace gets to know him quite intimately. They both graduate, date for another few months, and then it sort of fizzles out. Thomas is moving to Vancouver for post-grad at the end of the summer, so they agree to break up. Their goodbye sex is pretty spectacular. Wallace gets a job and a tiny crappy apartment, sleeps with a great guy named Victor for a few consecutive days, then four different guys the next week.

His life is pretty excellent.

And then Scott shows up one night, sways on the doorstep, mumbles, "I don't think she likes me any more," and Wallace instinctively reaches out to catch him.

*

There are three very long, very dull months where Scott recounts every mean thing Envy says to him, and cries a lot, and then goes right back out to get his heart beaten up again. Wallace tries to tell him, for the first three weeks, that she just isn't worth it, but eventually he gives up. He also offers to cut Scott's hair his fucking self if it would make him _shut up about it_.

Scott starts sleeping over in December. Wallace spends Christmas with the Pilgrims. Envy's with her family in Montreal, Scott says. It's taken him a long time to notice, but Wallace realises suddenly that all the life has gone out of Scott's voice. One day he's going to get Envy alone, and then he's going to kill her.

Scott gets a haircut after Christmas. It doesn't look as cute, but he's happy, in a desperate sort of way. Wallace goes to a pretty great party, makes out with a hot guy, cheers in a crowd at midnight, and staggers home alone after getting a different hot guy's number. It is good, he drunkenly muses, to be Wallace Wells.

Scott is lying on the doorstep, eyes closed, half covered in snow, when Wallace gets home. It's like being doused in caffeine-soaked ice; suddenly sober, he wipes the snow off him and prods his shoulder. "Scott? _Scott_? Hey, Scott, are you okay?"

He's asleep, snuggled deep in his parka. Wallace unlocks the door and tries to shove Scott inside without damaging him. He ends up partially carrying him, partially rolling him, and partially just dragging him into the bathroom. Scott doesn't wake up.

"Come on, come on, how long were you out there for," Wallace mutters, slapping his cheek. Scott makes a low, deep groaning noise, and Wallace slaps him harder.

"Wdd," Scott mutters.

"Took you long enough," Wallace grumbles, smacking him once very hard.

"What did I do?" Scott enunciates at last. "Why are you hitting me?"

"You almost died in the fucking snow, you fucking idiot," Wallace sighs.

"Is that why I'm so cold?" Scott's teeth are chattering.

"Yes, that is why you're so cold. Come on, clothes off, hot shower. Now."

"I can't do it." He's whining, so he must be feeling better.

"Fine," Wallace snaps, " _I'll_ do it. You know," he yanks Scott's coat off, "I was having a really great night," pulling his shirt over his head, "until you showed up." He yanks Scott's pants down and pulls his shoes off and says, "I trust you can take your own underwear off." He switches the shower on and adjusts the temperature.

"Thanks." Scott is naked and shivering, and with his cropped hair looks extra pathetic. Wallace shoves him into the shower cubicle.

"Wash. Warm up. I'll make some cocoa."

He gets two mugs, because why the fuck not. Scott emerges after ten minutes, bright pink and wearing Wallace's bathrobe. "You okay now?" he calls over.

"Yeah," Scott has the grace to look sheepish. "Warm. Thanks."

"What were you doing out there anyway? Couldn't you have gone to Envy's or something?"

Scott falls into a chair

 

 

 

\------------------------------  
I had plans for this, and it would have been not the easiest to write. The plans basically: Scott tells Wallace about Envy dumping him, and sinks into his depression. He comes on to Wallace sometimes, sort of desperately and bleakly, and Wallace fights him off and just cuddles him at first, but eventually Scott makes it clear that he needs comfort sex, so they have comfort sex. And it's awkward and weird and wrenching and Scott doesn't remember it once he starts coming out of his depressive fug. There's no real easy ending to it, and the amount of heart-wrenching angst for Wallace (and for Scott, of course) always stalled me on writing more of it. But I really like what I have, I just ... can't finish this one. I'm not good with h/c if there isn't a ratio of 1:10 on the hurt:comfort.


End file.
